Sinful

Dealing the Facts

Dealing the Facts

Rubbing the warm towel across her jaw Harper sighed. "I hope you're done smearing blood all over me."

"No more blood." Kiev chuckled from behind her.

  Turning her attention to his lean figure sitting causally on her bed, his legs dangling off the side of the mattress as he propped himself up on an elbow. Staring at his reflection through the mirror Harper couldn't help but notice his relaxed demeanor. The way he sat on the bed with such calmness and serenity brought a soft smile to her lips. He even laughed, she thought causing her smile to stretch further.

  After what felt like hours Harper managed to soothe Kiev long enough for both of them to collect themselves, dry their tears and start forward with whatever this was. Despite his heart wrenching sobs Harper was concerned Kiev would bounce back into his closed off self again but as he stood onto his feet he leant forward and placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. Although he whispered the words Harper heard him thank her once again just as he pulled away. Instead of clarifying that she didn't exactly agree to anything just yet she decided to remain silent on the matter and change her clothing since Kiev had once again covered her in blood. She didn't have the energy to argue at the moment or worse if he dropped to his knees again. She didn't have it in her to fight him so soon.

  Now dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and a plain grey T-shirt Harper stood before her mirror trying to clean the blood off of her cheek and neck. The task was proving to be more difficult than she thought. The dark liquid was sticky like molasses and thick like cooled wax.

"What the hell is this?" She grumbled angrily as she applied more force. "Your blood was red when I stabbed you five days ago and not nearly this sticky."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I've changed since then."

Arching a brow she sent him a quizzical look and earned another throaty laugh that sent butterflies to flutter in her belly. Averting her eyes she told herself not to lower her guard, just because they weren't fighting didn't mean they could go back to how they were before he attacked her.

"Here, let me."

Startled by his sudden presence behind her Harper jerked forward, gripping the eggshell colored vanity causing the attached mirror to shake violently. Kiev's hurt expression reflected in the mirror before her, his round eyes finding her fear filled gaze.

Gritting her teeth in frustration she released the breath she didn't realized she was holding. You're okay, you're okay. Loosening her death grip on the edge of the vanity Harper straightened her posture and with her gaze glued to his reflection she lifted the warm towel up for him to take. Kiev hesitated, giving her a moment to reconsider and for a moment she thought about lowering her hand but that meant succumbing to her fear. Instead Harper steeled herself and motioned with her eyes for him to take the towel.

Nodding Kiev took the towel. With his brows pulled downwards Kiev pushed her semi wet hair over one shoulder and very gently wiped at the sticky blood on her jaw first. Swallowing hard Harper felt a heavy weight settle across her chest reminding her of her fear and it upset her. She hated feeling this weak and vulnerable, it reminded her of when she was in the Hunters. After her mother's death it became much more difficult for her to adapt into her everyday life again. Every practice brought her back to that moment, looking into her father's disappointed gaze when she left a class early because she couldn't keep her fear at bay made her feel helpless and trapped in her anxiety. The memories haunted her, they chased her even after she left the Hunters and they haunted her now.

Looking up through a dark row of lashes Harper couldn't ignore just how much Kiev resembled his father especially with the sickly grey tint in his face. It wasn't just the attack that brought this sudden fear, it was the eerie resemblance Kiev had to his father. The darkness that surround her as he strangled her was the same pitch black cloud that his father created around them after he killed her mother, on his knees, staring up at her with those coal like eyes, the ashen tint of his skin, the hollowness of his cheeks and the desperation in his voice. Kiev didn't look as worn as his father had the night of his death but he seemed to have the same, if not milder traits and that was terrifying. That the monster from her dreams was living, breathing and very much in her life.